


Pick You Up Again

by mostlyharmless



Series: Lea Tenders [4]
Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Cunnilingus, F/M, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-16
Updated: 2011-11-16
Packaged: 2017-10-26 03:46:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/278321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mostlyharmless/pseuds/mostlyharmless
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She throws affection around easily, plays too many games, makes too many promises. Stretches herself thinner and thinner until she snaps, and here they are.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pick You Up Again

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> Axel is named Lea, and Roxas is in love with her. They're in college in this one.

 

Roxas awakens, bleary and flailing, to a sharp rapping on his door. “The fuck,” he moans as he staggers out of bed, tripping over a lump of clothes on his way to the doorhandle.

On the other side, illuminated by the dim hall lights, is a familiar face, looking tired and tight.

“Hey,” says Lea, and Roxas blinks slowly.

“Huungh?” He asks, intelligently.

“Sora let me in,” she answers. “Figured you were sleeping through my calls.”

“Nah,” Roxas yawns out, almost unintelligible. “W’sill on silent from class last night. Sorry,” he says, propping the door open with his foot to rub at his eye.

“Oh, okay,” she says, and he’s still too asleep to attempt figuring out exactly what the edge in her tone could be about.

 “You’re coming in, right?”

“Yeah. Yeah,” she says, and he moves aside to let her in, willing himself awake.

Watching her stalk stiffly across the room, he tries to think. There’s definitely something wrong. He knows it’s not family shit, because then she’d be pacing and raging by now. Did he do something…? He stoops to find his phone, glowing under a pair of discarded jeans, and feels the blood drain from his face. Seven missed calls. Shit…

“Don’t know why they don’t just give you your own key card. You practically live in this dorm,” he says, trying to keep his voice light, and she smiles at him from her perch at the foot of his bed, tired and preoccupied, but genuine. Good, he thinks, slightly relieved. The heavy weight that’s settling in his stomach doesn’t disappear, though.

He flops back into bed, and nudges at her side with his knee. Should be safe to ask. “So what’s with the wake-up call?”

“I was just at the Pink Elephant,” she says. Roxas nods against his pillow.  He knows the place. He thinks he’s been there, though he remembers nothing of the night Lea planned to take him save waking up in a tree.

“I bumped into Saïx.”

Shit. He looks sharply up at her on the edge of his bed, her back to him, the lines of her silhouette tense and angry. Shit.

He swallows. “Shit.”

“Sorry for waking you up,” she says, shortly.

“Nah…”

“I just.” She drops onto her back, over Roxas’ legs. “I’m not drunk or anything. I just.” Wanted someone there, she’s not saying. He knows anyway.

“I know,” he says, feeling around and finding skin to rub what he hopes is soothingly. I would do anything for you, I worry so much about you, he doesn’t say.

He knows she knows anyway.

 “Hey. He didn’t. Do anything, did he?”

He feels the mattress dip and warm limbs knocking into him, and she’s crawling up to lie alongside him. Her pointy nose pushes into his shoulder, where he feels her exhale hotly.

When people cut Roxas up, he cuts them out of his life. He wants to move forwards, always learning about himself, always making himself stronger. He doesn’t need the cancer of backstabbers anywhere in his heart to weaken him.

But Lea, he thinks, stroking her back a little awkwardly, Lea is completely different. She throws affection around easily, plays too many games, makes too many promises. Stretches herself thinner and thinner until she snaps, and here they are.

“Eh,” she mumbles. “Whatcha gonna do.”

Roxas doesn’t know what to do, he never knows what to do. Fucking rhetorical questions. He never knows the right things to say, either. Even the consoling petting part doesn’t come naturally to him. Those genes must have all ended up in his brother Sora.

Though still being a little too awed at being allowed to touch Lea’s hair and face whenever he likes might have something to do with it.

“He’s a dick,” Roxas tries, tucking a lock of red hair behind her ear experimentally. “Don’t give a shit about anything he says.”

“I really hurt him,” she says, quietly.

“Fuck that. He hurt you,” Roxas says, more heatedly. She kisses his collarbone and he squirms, undeterred. “He took advantage of how long the two of you had been together to emotionally blackmail you into,” he falters, as she nips at the thick tendon in his neck, “into—”

She palms his crotch and shoves a tongue down his throat.

“You’ve told me that a million times,” she says into his open mouth. “I just want to feel good right now.”

Okay, Roxas thinks, swallowing an embarrassing noise. He’s not sure whether he’s all that good at this kind of thing either, or whether it might be better for her to talk her feelings out for once, but—Lea grinds the palm of her hand down nice and—and yeah.

Fuck.

She bites his jaw to hear the shaky sound he makes, and then she’s kissing him again, and there’s the anger. Her lips are almost painful against his, moving and moving and he grabs at her arm, her side, trying to keep up. Everything is too hot and it’s the wrong angle and if she just moved her leg—but the words won’t come out, only a pained huff.

She sits up suddenly, leaving him panting for air back against the bunched sheets. There’s a beat of silence as Lea rubs a hand over her face, and he feels his skin start to sting from where her nails were cutting in.

“What are you waiting for?” he asks, trying to sound confident despite the leaden weight still not moving from his stomach. He meets her gaze as it rakes through him, then she’s leaning back in, purpose simmering in her half-lit eyes.

It’s slow and deep and strong, rhythmic, and it’s the first time Roxas has ever kissed someone like this. Learning how to meet her, move with her, he feels the razor tension thrumming under her skin, under his hands, temper into a fluid steady pulse.

Every slide of her lips, brush of her tongue sends heat sliding to the pit of his stomach and he didn’t think just kissing could ever get him this hard.

“Okay,” she breathes, and he squirms and ducks his head as her breath tickles his neck. “Oh shush. Get over it you wuss.”

There’s not enough blood going to Roxas’ brain for him to think of a good reply quickly, so he snorts and creeps a hand up her shirt to buy time. “Insulting me isn’t all that conductive to your have-me-make-you-feel-good plan, you know,” he says, fingering the underwire of her bra.

“You have your hand up my shirt. I think it’s going well enough,” she says, and the timbre of her voice makes him shiver a little.

“Mm. Is that what you think.”

“Yeah,” she murmurs, as he pushes fingers up between stiff fabric and soft, soft skin. “Yeah…”

He snickers kind of nervously, and she moves to prop herself up on her side, arching more fully into his touch. He’d felt a thread of tension lingering underneath her easy banter, but her body is warm and relaxing and maybe yeah, maybe making her feel good really is the best thing right now, because that breathy little sigh just now was the most relaxed he’s heard her all night.

He drags the pad of his thumb over her nipple more slowly and she makes the sound again before pushing his hand away. Roxas watches as Lea squirms out of her clothes, trying to keep clear of her elbows and knees; he’s learned this lesson.

And fuck if she isn’t beautiful; they’ve done this quite a few times now, but it makes his heart skip every time. Long, long legs, shadows and valleys he’s still a little self conscious about looking at. The rise of her hips, the planes of her stomach, stark ribs he could count even in this darkness. The swell of her breasts, nipples peaked and heaving with every breath and fuck fuck fuck he aches to just crawl over and bury his face in there—and he’s _allowed to_ —and right now, he’s too horny to put his pride first.

“That’s right,” she rumbles, rolling onto her back and tugging him closer. She strokes his hair as ne nuzzles at her chest, mouthing a nipple, face burning because he’s thought of another place he’s sure she’d like him to bury his face. But, he’s never done it before, and he’s not sure this is the right time to try something that might end up insanely awkward, but.

But, she wants to feel good. She came to him to make her feel good. If she has this much faith in him… maybe that’s all he needs.

It’s not so hard to move lower as he kisses at her soft breasts, to trace his lips down her stomach, shifting himself down til he’s kneeling between her legs. Roxas braces his arms on either side of her hips to place a kiss above her navel, and when he shifts his hands to her bent knees, her breath catches audibly.

He’s a little afraid to meet her eye.

“Hey, you don’t have to do that,” she says, clutching his forearm.

“But I think you’ll like it,” he says, decoding the message her strangled tone and wide eyes aren’t exactly hiding. “I want to.”

“Fuck, Roxas,” she says, and the vice-like grip on his arm relaxes, mostly.

“It’s okay,” he says, feeling decidedly not okay. But it _will_ be okay. Because this isn’t just anyone, this is Lea, and he.

And thinking is probably not helping. Using her little appreciative murmurs as guidance, he kisses the almost unbearably soft skin of her inner thighs, then just below her navel, pausing there draped over her spread thighs, so close to her skin he can feel his own hot breath shunted back against his face.

He rests his cheek against her thigh, and slides two fingers through her wet folds. Where they’re pressed up together he feels her give a little start, and the hand around his arm tightens again.

Roxas’ experience so far has taught him to watch, listen, and respond. He knows how and where to move his fingers, he knows the scent. Even the taste, from his own fingers, from hers. As long as Lea really is into this, it should be fine.

He feels the wetness under his fingers getting thicker, and her hips are pushing up a little. Okay, okay. She’s tense again, tense and silent and straining and his confidence wavers, maybe this was a bad idea.

No, fuck it.

The strangled whine that escapes her when he finally touches her with his tongue makes him flinch, and then there’s a hand threading through his hair, pulling him up.

“Hang on,” she stutters, and squirms her legs out from underneath him to hook over his shoulders instead. Damp hands squeeze his shoulders.

“There we go,” she says. Lea’s familiar voice in the dark, Lea’s familiar hands on his skin, and Roxas twinges as he realises she’s worrying about him.

He’s supposed to be taking care of her. Just this once, for god’s sake.

 The thought fuels him to grab her thighs, to lean back in.

The darkness presses down all around as time trickles past and through it he can hear her swallowing the strangest noises, and he can’t remember if the window is open, but goddamn he can’t really care either. His mouth feels strange and his head is spinning, dizzy, gone.

A half-nonsense plea escapes from Lea and his last functional brain cells tell him he’s found it, she’s there, almost there, don’t falter, don’t stop.

Don’t stop don’t stop, and he realises that’s actually Lea, whispering furiously and digging sharp nails hard into his shoulders, and the pressure not to fuck it up now plummets dizzily through his stomach, the universe narrowing smaller and smaller.

Then her hips are grinding up into his face and he scrambles to push them down without losing that all-important rhythm. Lea’s back arches up and for a few terrifying seconds her thighs clamp around his head, until she pushes him back and rolls away and works herself, growling and sobbing through a second, a third orgasm. Roxas watches, more than a little mind-blown.

She finally collapses onto her back, groping blindly in Roxas’ direction, and he moves up without even thinking, crawling on top of her and tangling their legs.

“Okay?” he asks, voice sort of scratchy.

Lea frames his face with her hands, unable to keep a lazy, blissed-out smile off her face as she licks his mouth open, tongue searching possessively for every last taste of herself inside Roxas’ hot mouth before trying to lick his chin.

Roxas tries to move his head away.

“Eating face isn’t supposed to be literal.”

“C’mon baby,” she says, and rolls him over and pushes him down to clean his face and fingers and fuck, his face is heating up and in all the stress he’d lost the edge, but now he really needs to take care of himself sometime soon.

But Lea’s huffy laughter tickling his ear is making him smile, and she’s boneless and relaxed on top of him, green eyes hooded and sleepy.

“How about you, you okay?” she asks, and she sound drained, but in a good way.

“Yeah,” he says.

Her eyes close and her chest swells against Roxas as she draws a deep breath. “Fuck that was hot.”

“We could do it again sometime,” Roxas says. He wants to ask, are you feeling better now? Are you still thinking about Saïx? That makes an unpleasant feeling curl in his gut. Please don’t be thinking about Saïx.

But he doesn’t, because the mood blanketed down around them is warm and heavy and perfect and he wouldn’t rip that back for the world right now.

Well, he thinks, as Lea murmurs a noise of pleased agreement against his shoulder, breathing evening out as she drifts into peaceful sleep. Well… he might have to get up in a moment, to take care of a pressing issue. That is currently pressing into Lea’s stomach.

But he can wait a few more seconds, just to feel her here in his arms like this.

Roxas knows how vulnerable you become when you let people hold a piece of yourself. It’s giving them the ability to crush your self-worth, your confidence, your happiness, your heart.

If he thought about it, he’d realise that giving Lea a piece of his heart, when her own is so unstable and divided, doesn’t really fit his self-preservation plan.

But he doesn’t have to think about it, because without her there, there’s nothing he’d really care to preserve.

 


End file.
